


One Perfect Day

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blow Job, Cream Pie, Day At The Beach, Gender Neutral Self Insert, Kissing, Other, Romance, Shower Sex, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 07:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15925487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Tyler wants to give you a good day.





	One Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NBmess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NBmess/gifts).



You wake up to Tyler standing over you.

To his credit, he's not looming - he's a loomer by nature, by dint of his height, but he does his best not to do it intentionally.

He's standing there with a plate containing toast (which looks to be covered in some kind of jam) and a nervous expression.

"Oh," he says. "I was gonna leave this for you here."

"Yeah?"

"I know you were tired," he says. "Are tired?"

You sit up, stretching, your arms over your head, your back arching, your toes pointing.

Various joints click, and the relief that spreads through you is almost like an orgasm. 

"Nah," you say. "I feel pretty good."

"I'm glad," he says, and he smiles at you - one of those dazzling, adoring smiles that always does things to your stomach.

You smile back at him, and he blushes, blushes hard enough that it reaches his ears.

"You're so sweet," you tell him, and you sit up fully, reaching for the plate.

He hands it to you, and you hold it in your lap, taking a bite of the toast.

It's heaped with butter and jam, and the combination of flavors fire off in your mouth, enough to make you close your eyes in pleasure.

"Thanks for breakfast in bed," you tell him.

"Of course," he says, and he grins. "So you ready for a fun day out?"

"Looking forward to it," you say. 

He's been wanting to spoil you for some time now - he hasn't exactly _told_ you how he wants to spoil you, except that he wants to do "stuff," and is reluctant to share more than that.

He's stubborn enough that he's not going to actually tell you, even under threat of excessive tickles. 

Ah well.

Having a boyfriend who is determined to make a day special for you isn't exactly the worst thing in the world. 

"So what am I going to be wearing today?"

"Something comfortable," he tells you. 

You snort, giving him a Look.

"Also sunblock," he says. 

You keep looking at him.

"I'm not gonna tell you anything else," he says, and he's smirking at you. "You gonna go shower and get ready to go out?"

"Yeah, yeah," you say, and you turn up your face to kiss him, your mouth still sticky with jam. 

He kisses you back, his expression sappy.

You blush, just a little bit, and he cups your face, his thumb on your cheekbone.

You kiss his palm, and then you take another bite of your toast.

* * *

You shower, washing all over carefully, making a point of scrubbing everything.

For all you know, he's going to take you to some secret convention, or maybe to a fancy bookstore or something like that.

... he did say to dress "comfortably," which can mean just about anything, but you can hope, right?

You come out, and you dress in a tank top and a pair of shorts, because it's hot out and you don't want to melt - you _are_ in California, after all.

Tyler is dressed as well, and you're trying not to look too hard at his arms, which are making the sleeves of his shirt bulge in such a way as to make you want to call off any fun plans and just ride his cock into the next dimension.

But he's grinning at you, and he's holding a bottle of sunblock.

"If you do my back, I'll do yours," he says.

"I'll do more than your back," you tell him, and you waggle your eyebrows, smirking like a shark.

"Oh my god," he says, and he looks amused. "You're worse than Mark sometimes, you know that?"

"Someone has to be," you tell him. "By dint of... y'know, how the world works."

"How the world works?"

His tone is flat, as he turns around, handing you the sunblock.

You squirt some on your hands, and you rub them together, spreading it across your palms, then beginning to rub the sunblock into the back of his neck, then the backs of his arms.

His skin is soft and warm, as always, and you can feel the shift of his muscles under his skin, which is enough to make you blush a bit.

You shouldn't be acting like some kind of... protagonist of some kind of romance novel, and you're licking your lips.

The sunscreen smells faintly of coconut, and that specific astringent scent that comes with sunblock.

It brings back memories of beaches and pools, and you're struck with the sense memory of it, nostalgia washing over you like a wave.

Tyler turns around, and he's looking into your eyes, his expression suddenly concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he says, and he clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry."

"What's up?"

"... do smells ever get you, like, super nostalgic?"

You're a little embarrassed about having feelings about something so... basic, but fuck it.

What's the point of life, if not to feel your feelings?

And, well, part of feeling your feelings is occasionally getting choked up about random, faintly embarrassing stuff.

At least Tyler won't judge you too hard. 

He's not that kinda guy.

It's one of the billions of reasons he adores him so much. 

"Oh yeah," says Tyler, and he's squirting sunblock onto his own hands, and he's beginning to apply it to your arms.

You snort - you could, in theory, apply your own sunblock, but there's something nice about the way that Tyler is just... doing it for you.

Giving someone attention is the same as giving someone love - you'd read that somewhere. 

"What's a smell that makes you nostalgic?"

"Petrichor," he says.

"What's that?" 

"You know when it's just rained on hot pavement, and everything smells... sharp?"

You nod.

"It's that smell. I love that smell."

"I do too," you admit.

"And... when I smell it, I feel like I'm a little kid again," Tyler says, and he's carefully applying the sunblock to your collarbone now, and then your neck, your face. 

He even puts it on the tops of your ears, and you have to grin.

He's such a meticulous person.

"I'm not going to die of sun poisoning," you tell him.

"Better safe than sorry," he says. 

"Are you taking me out for a hike in the desert or something like that?"

That would, admittedly, be pretty neat.

You like the desert - there's something almost eerie about the silence of it, the great, vast spaces.

You can sit on the ground and look at the sky, and there's so much of it that you worry it will swallow you up, but not in a bad way.

"Nah," he says. "Not this time of year. We'd both melt."

"Fair enough," you say.

"Put on comfortable walking shoes," he tells you, as he finally finishes applying sunblock.

"What kind of walking shoes?"

"Walking shoes you can take off without too much trouble," he tells you.

"Hm?"

"Just... trust me," he tells you. "Okay?"

"I trust you," you tell him, and it's true. 

You'd trust him to the ends of the earth and back.

You smile at him, so full of feelings that it feels a little bit like you might explode, and he smiles back at you, looking sheepish but relieved.

It's nice to be able to have big, scary feelings at someone, and for them to reflect them back.

Only not _actually_ reflect, obviously, because then it kind of feels like you just think of other people as a means to reflect your own feelings, but....

"You're overthinking," Tyler says, and he gently taps you on the forehead.

"Sorry," you say, looking sheepish.

He's always been good at being able to tell when you're getting lost in your own head.

"It's fine," he says, and he pats you on the hand, then squeezes your fingers. "Oh! Don't forget your hat either."

"Oh my god," you say, but you're laughing as you grab the ugly baseball cap he got you when you went to the one amusement park, putting it on your head. "Are you happy?"

"Ecstatic," he says, entirely straight faced. 

Then he's taking your hand, and the two of you are leaving the house.

* * * 

"So, where are we going?"

"You'll see," he says, his tone sunny. 

You sit in the car, looking out the windows and watching LA go by.

"Am I gonna get a hint?"

"It's a place I know you'll like," he says.

That doesn't help much - you like a lot of places.

"I know it's outdoors," you hazard a guess, which is true, because, well, all of that sun protection only really comes around when you're going to spend a certain amount of time outdoors.

"Right," he says.

"Are we going... to a ren faire?"

"Nope," he says, and that makes sense.

If the two of you were going to the faire, he'd probably have helped you get dressed up all fancy.

Since you're in your regular street clothes... no dice.

"Are we going to... the big craft fair?"

For a moment, his face looks nervous.

"Did you want to go to that?"

"I mean," you say, "it's gonna be around for a few months, so it's not like I'm in some kind of huge hurry to go to it."

"Right," he says, and he clears his throat, looking sheepish. "Although I guess I just gave up the fact that we're not going there, huh?"

"Basically, yeah," you tell him, and you pat him on the knee as he turns the car down a particular highway, "but it's okay."

"I can't be perfect," he tells you.

"No," you say, "you're just as close as someone can be."

"I'm not perfect," he demurs, and he looks embarrassed.

"You're pretty damn close," you counter.

"I'm okay," he says, and he's blushing.

"Hey," you say sharply, "what's the rule about compliments?"

When the two of you first got together, you'd been bad about taking compliments, and he'd implemented a rule: any compliment couldn't be argued with.

You just said "thank you."

"Thank you," he says, and he looks a little sheepish, but ultimately amused.

"You're welcome," you say back, your tone prim.

He snorts, and he glances over at you when you stop at a stop sign.

You raise an eyebrow, and you grin at him.

"So... any more guesses?"

"I'm not sure yet," you tell him. "Can I get a hint?"

"We've been there together before," he says.

That... doesn't narrow it down much.

The two of you like to do stuff together. 

"Did we enjoy it?"

"Oh yeah," he says. 

"What did we enjoy?"

"A lot of stuff," he says.

"Right," you say, because that doesn't help things much, does it.

* * *

When he pulls into the zoo parking lot, you're laughing.

" _This_ was your big secret?!"

You're snickering like something out of a Hanna Barbera cartoon, and he looks faintly alarmed.

"Sorry," he says. "Would you rather not go to the zoo?"

"No, no," you say quickly, and you lean over to kiss him, as the two of you wait in line for parking, one car in a long line of them. "I'm just... this is really sweet."

It _is_ true - you've always liked going to zoo.

One of your first dates together was going to the zoo.

He smiles at you, and he looks genuinely pleased - like he didn't expect you to be so happy about it.

But, well, how can you not be?

Not only did he remember where you guys went in the early days, he remembers just how much you love going.

"So," he says, "ready for some fun?"

"Let's do this!"

* * *

You go to the elephants first.

The elephants are at the very entrance of the zoo, which always seems a bit odd to you, although you're not sure why.

But there they are - big, grey animals, wading in their moat, flicking each other with water from their trunks.

You can't blame them - it is a disgustingly hot day, and you're glad for your hat, glad for all that sunblock.

You lean against him, hip to hip, and you watch the elephants.

"I always liked elephants," Tyler says, his tone thoughtful.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he says. 

"Any particular reason why?"

"I can relate to being big and strong, but also everyone expecting me to be dangerous," he says.

"People don't think of elephants as dangerous, do they?"

"I mean," says Tyler, "they do kill people occasionally."

"So do dogs," you say, dismissive.

He snorts.

"I was... dangerous, when I was younger," he says, his voice quiet. "I was a bully."

"You _were_ a bully," you counter. "You're not a bully anymore."

"I like to hope I'm not," he agrees.

Then you gasp in delight, because there's a baby elephant, toddling out after its mother, and it's got big eyes, and it sucking on its trunk.

"It's so tiny!"

"That baby weighs more than you do," Tyler says, his tone amused.

"Well, okay, yes, but still," you say. "For an elephant, that's tiny!"

"You're right," he says. "For an elephant, that is really, really tiny."

He's smiling really wide now.

"There's, uh... there's a lot of baby animals," he tells you. "Here, I mean. There's been a bunch of them lately, and I got a special email promotion about it."

"Right," you say.

That would explain all of the posters with weirdly shaped baby onesies and things like that around the place, come to think of it. 

It's really a genius level of marketing. 

"What other babies are there?"

"Well," he says, and he opens up the map, "I saw a thing saying they've got baby orangutans?" 

" _Holy shit_ ," you say, and it takes actual physical effort not to squeal like some kind of teenage girl at an anime convention. "I need to see that, right now."

He snorts, but he offers you his hand.

You take it, and the two of you make your way towards the next exhibit. 

* * *

The baby orangutan is, of course, devastatingly cute. 

The little guy clings to his mom, and stares out at you with big eyes.

Tyler snickers, just a bit. 

“What’s so funny?”

“... remember the Discworld novels?”

You nod.

He loaned you a few of them, when the two of you started dating, and you’ve enjoyed them immensely.

“So, uh, I was… I was thinking about the Librarian,” he says.

You snicker. 

“I think this little guy has some time to be a librarian,” you say. 

“A few more years of college?”

“Oh yeah. And then he has to get his Masters.”

Another snicker.

The two of you make eye contact, and then you’re just… cackling.

You don’t even know why, except that the whole situation is just… fuckin’ hilarious.

Maybe it’s because the both of you are both such nerds about it - you fell in love with Pratchett’s weird prose, and now the fact that you can share it with him makes your heart catch in your chest, just a little bit.

… oh god, you’ve got it bad.

You blush, and you lean in to kiss him on the mouth.

He cups your cheek, gently, and he thumbs your cheekbone.

You kiss his palm, and he sighs, leaning against you, his expression downright dopey.

You smile at him, and he smiles back at you. 

“Wanna go see the other animals?”

“Yeah!”

* * *

The two of you watch the lions - the big male lion looks like a mobile haystack, with his tiny lion body behind the great mane.

“If you had a fursona,” you tell Tyler, “I think you’d be a lion.”

“I don’t think I’ve got _nearly_ enough hair,” to be a lion,” Tyler says, running a hand through his hair, his expression rueful.

“You could pull it off. Maybe furry lions do the whole crew cut thing, since it keeps things from getting in your face.”

Tyler snorts.

“You’re adorable,” he tells you, his expression completely serious.

You squeeze his fingers, as the two of you begin to make your way towards the other exhibits.

* * *

The tigers are, of course, beautiful and luxurious, aware that they’re better than any biped.

The monkeys are cute, if cheeky.

The birds are raucous, and their steamy enclosure is enough to make Tyler’s glasses fog up.

They’re holding a demonstration, and Tyler gets to hold a snake, which is bigger around than his forearm.

You take a picture of his slightly nervous expression, and you save it for future uses.

What future uses?

You’re not sure yet.

By the time one in the afternoon rolls around, you’re beginning to get tired.

“So,” he says, as the two of you sit in a cafe, watching the flamingos wading around in their pond, “you up for going someplace else?”

“What kind of someplace else?”

“Someplace more… relaxing,” he says. 

You pause, and you look at him sidelong.

The way he says “relaxing” seems faintly suspect, although you can’t put your finger on why that is.

“What kind of relaxing?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” you tell him.

“Okay, good,” he says, and he takes your hand, squeezing it. “So you wanna blow this popsicle stand, go someplace else?”

“... sure,” you say. “Let’s do it.”

“I thought you’d say that,” he says, and he leans over, kissing you on the mouth.

His mouth is sweet with the chocolate ice cream that he’s eating, and you kiss him back, savoring the cold sweetness. 

* * *

The two of you are in the car again, and you’re drowsy.

You bought him a t-shirt in the gift shop - it’s got a picture of an elephant, and it’s tie dyed.

It’s the kind of tacky that looks so bad it's good on anyone, let alone someone as drop dead gorgeous as Tyler.

He’s promised you that he’s going to wear it on camera for you.

You stretch, your back arching and your toes curling.

“So do I get any hints this time?”

“We’re gonna need to put on more sunblock,” is all he says.

You snort.

* * * 

When he pulls over to the beach parking lot, you laugh out loud.

You can’t help it - you absolutely _love_ the beach, but you almost never have a chance to go, for one reason or another.

But here you are, at the beach.

Then you pause.

“I don’t have a bathing suit with me,” you tell him.

“I packed it,” he says. 

“You did?”

“Yep,” he says. “And a beach umbrella.”

“Oh,” you say, and you blush. “Um. Thank you.”

He grins.

“You wanna go do the California thing?”

“What, invent weird pizza and drink kale?”

“... wanna do the more stereotypical California thing?”

“Get high?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and he leans over, kissing you on the mouth.

It’s a quick smack, lips on lips, then pulled back, but it’s tinged with affection.

You blush, and he laughs.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s do it!”  
* * *

You are wearing a bathing suit, and you are standing on the edge of the water, the waves lapping at your toes.

Tyler is next to you in his swim trunks, and he’s holding your hand.

The water is just rough enough to make things interesting, and you glance over at him, grinning.

“You ready?”

“Let’s do it!”

You both take a step into the water, and then you both squeal - Tyler looks faintly embarrassed when he does, but that doesn’t mean he stops.

“That’s _cold_ ,” Tyler says.

“You’re from the Midwest,” you tell him. “Aren’t you always bragging about how you can take all that cold?”

“I’m from a landlocked state,” Tyler reminds you. “I’m not exactly used to the ocean.”

You burst out laughing, and you move deeper, until the waves are hitting the both of you around the knees. 

The spray is slapping against your belly, which is faintly uncomfortable, but it’s also wonderful.

You’re laughing, the sea air filling your whole body, filling your whole _self_.

The sun beats down on you, hard and hot, and the water is cold enough that your teeth are trying to start chattering.

The contrast of temperatures is enough to make your head spin.

“We should jump into the next wave and dive down,” Tyler says in a thoughtful tone of voice.

“You think?”

“Oh yeah,” says Tyler, and he squeezes your hand. “On three?”

“Okay!”

“Three!”

Tyler dives into the wave, and you jump in with him, since it’s that or be pulled under.

When you come up for air, your hair is pasted down to your face, and you’re sputtering and laughing at the same time.

He’s laughing, and he squeezes your hand as the two of you begin to go deeper, the water going all the way up to his waist.

He makes an undignified noise.

“You okay?”

“My balls are trying to go back up into me,” Tyler says, and his voice has gone up a bit in pitch.

You snicker.

You’re feeling the cold as well, and you shiver, just a bit, and you crowd closer to him.

The beach is relatively empty, for whatever reason.

You’re not going to complain too hard - you just wrap your arms and legs around Tyler, clinging to him like a monkey.

Which makes you think of the orangutan from the zoo, which makes you grin.

Then Tyler is grabbing your ass, squeezing it, and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding forward experimentally.

Tyler grunts, and his hips tighten on your ass.

He’s beginning to get hard in his swim trunks, and that’s a novel feeling.

You grind forward experimentally.

He grunts again, and he rolls his hips, just a bit.

“As nice as this is,” he says to you, “I think there’s a time and a place.”

You snort, and you reach down, squeezing him awkwardly.

Your own arousal is beginning to build, and it’s an odd sensation - to be surrounded by cold water, the hot sun beating on your shoulders, as a different sort of heat begins to build in your belly.

Not that you’re going to complain too hard, because there’s something so… deliciously illicit about doing something in plain sight, but still hidden.

You kiss him, a sweet, deep kiss, your tongue in his mouth, and you can taste the salt from the ocean on his lips, and the warmth of his mouth is a sharp contrast to the cold water.

His cock is definitely hard now, and pressing against you right where it’s appreciated.

You moan into his mouth, and he moans back, beginning to full on hump you.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and you dig your heels into his calves.

He nuzzles into your neck, kissing along it, then sucks a hickey into your skin.

“We should… stop,” he says, his voice rough.

“Why?”

“Because this is a public beach, and I feel weird about getting jizz in the water,” says Tyler. “I know logically that it’s full of, like, fish jizz, but that’s different.”

“... fair enough,” you say.

You don’t want to think too hard about fish jizz.

“Although I am getting tired,” he adds, and he bounces you, just a bit. “You wanna go lie in the sun a bit?”

“I thought we brought an umbrella to lie under,” you point out.

“... you know what I mean,” he says.

You snort, and you kiss him, right along his jaw.

He sighs into it, and he squeezes you.

You squeeze him back. 

* * *

The two of you laze under the beach umbrella - each of you has a book.

There’s something restful about just… lying there together, your head on his thigh, a book balanced on your belly. 

He’s got a book in one hand, and the only noise is the sound of the ocean, and the flipping of pages.

You don’t even realize how late it’s gotten, until the light begins to get dim.

You blink up at him, trying to get your thoughts together, and he grins at you, leaning down to kiss your head.

“You wanna have one last dip, then head home?”

“That sounds like a plan,” you tell him.

You’re lazy, comfy, warm with the sun.

You’ve been lost in the world of your book - it’s the kind of book that you can only really read at the beach, full of weird shit.

… in retrospect, that’s probably why he got it for you in the first place.

“How long have you been planning this?”

Your voice is teasing, as you get up and stretch.

It’s going to take you a few minutes to wake up fully - you probably dozed a few times, while you were reading.

“Long enough,” he says, his tone prim, and then he grins at you, stretching as well, his hands over his head.

You watch the ripple of his muscles, the way they move under his skin.

God, but he’s gorgeous.

“Shall we?”

“Let’s!”

* * *

The two of you stand at the edge of the water, as the undertow sucks the sand out from under your feet, digging holes around them.

You turn your face up towards him, and you kiss him, as the sun sets, turning the sky orange.

This is like some stupid hallmark shit, except it’s so fucking wonderful that your heart is singing.

* * *

By the time you get back to the car, bonfires are beginning to spring up around the beach.

You yawn, comfortably exhausted.

It’s been a day - an excellent day, but still a day where a lot of stuff was done.

Especially a lot of standing.

Tyler is looking at you sidelong, his expression slightly shy.

“So I was thinking that I’d make us something nice for dinner,” he says, and then he rattles off a fancy dish that you’ve expressed an interest in.

You blush, but you make a shooing motion, as he starts the card up.

“Babe,” you say, “you’ve already done so much today.” 

“I was worried the beach and the zoo would be a bit too much,” he admits.

“It was kinda nice, going to the beach later in the day,” you tell him. “It’s not as crowded, and there isn’t as much… pressure to have fun.”

“You feel pressured to have fun?”

He looks at you, his expression interested.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I always worry I’m not… doing it right.”

He reaches out and pats you on the leg, and you cover his hand with your own, squeezing it.

“You’re doing great,” he assures you.

“So are you,” you tell him. 

“So I’ll make dinner -”

“You don’t need to make dinner,” you tell him firmly. “How about you let _me_ take care of _you_ for a bit?”

It’s his turn to blush.

“I mean,” he says, “if you insist.”

“I do,” you say, trying to sound as firm as possible.

“Well,” he says, “who am I to argue?”

“Exactly,” you say, and you’re grinning.

* * *

The two of you end up taking a shower before you do anything.

There’s sand in his hair, and salt is crusted to various bits of you.

You stand under the pouring water with him, and you kiss him, your hands in his hair, cupping his cheeks, thumbing his cheekbones.

His big hands are on your hips, and you sigh, pressing closer to him, kissing him like the end of the world.

He tastes faintly like salt, and he’s holding on tightly to you, shaking, just a bit.

“I just… I wanted today to be perfect,” he says, right up against your lips. 

“Nothing in life is perfect,” you tell him. “But this was pretty close.” 

“I’m glad,” he says, and he looks it.

You kiss him again, then kiss lower, along his neck, down his chest.

He’s shivering against you, and he’s holding on to you, tightly.

You don’t get a lot of chances to just… feel him.

It’s not that he doesn’t like to be touched - far from it, he loves to be touched.

But usually, he’s more focused on touching _you_.

So you take your time to taste his nipples, nibble along his belly, and then you’re on your knees in front of him, kissing along his cock.

He’s got a hand resting on your head, gently, and he’s stroking your hair off of your face.

“You doing okay?”

He looks down at you, his expression concerned, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, which is true.

He’s blocking off most of the water, and your knees aren’t so bad that you need to worry too hard about being on the porcelain.

You take his cock in your hand, and you stroke it, watching his beautiful face as he rolls his hips.

You wrap your lips around his cock, and you begin to bob your head, flicking the tip of your tongue along his slit, gathering up his pre-cum.

It’s salty, thin, and he’s moaning, his hand on your head as you begin to suck a little harder, taking it further into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, and his voice is thick, his knees shaking. “You feel… god, you feel _so_ good.”

You hum around his cock, and he lets out a muffled curse.

Then he’s pulling you upright by the shoulders, awkwardly, his cock pressed against your belly.

Your own arousal is evident, and he reaches between your legs, his fingers going right where you want them.

You sigh, grinding into his hand, and he curls his fingers in such a way as to make you see stars.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” he tells you, “and we can’t really do that here.”

You nod, giddy with endorphins, so horny your heart is beating between your legs.

He grins at you, presses a kiss to your lips, and you kiss him back, your arms going around his shoulders, one of your legs going up to wrap around his waist.

He sighs, grinding forward, and he moans into your mouth.

“You’re making it hard for me to stop,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Maybe that’s my goal.”

He gropes behind you, turns the shower off, and you shiver at the sudden blast of cold air, but… he’s grabbing you by the hips, taking you out of the bathroom.

He’s not usually this grabby.

Oh _fuck_ yes.

* * *

Tyler prepped you perfectly, with his mouth, with his fingers.

You’re rolling your hips now, as he carefully slides into you.

You’re so slick, so ready, and he’s so thick, so hot, so… perfect, and you’d cry, except holy fuck, it’s just _perfect_.

You do sob, once, and he looks at you, his expression worried.

“You okay?”

“Please don’t stop,” you tell him, your voice thick.

“Right,” says Tyler, and he rolls his hips, his hand going between you, to rub you right where you’re the most sensitive.

You twitch and flutter around him, and he makes a desperate noise, his hips jerking forward.

You turn your face up towards him, and he kisses you, a deep, sweet kiss, as he moans into your mouth.

You don’t know how long the two of you lie there - he fucks into you, and at one point, you’re on top, and then he’s on top again.

You cum around him, in a gush of wetness and stickiness, the pleasure so sweet that you can almost taste it, your back arching, your heels digging into the bed, digging into his back.

You’re almost completely limp, grinning up at him as the tremors still go through you, until you’re flat on the bed, shaking, panting.

He kisses you, and then he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and his cock is pulsing as he cums.

God, but he has such a gorgeous face.

You kiss him, and then he’s slumped on top of you, still inside of you, shaking, just a bit.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice thick. 

“I know, right?”

He grins, and he kisses at your temple.

Then he pauses.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want me to make you dinner?”

You groan, and you prod him in the side.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different? 
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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